


Speak What You Feel

by shoreside (elizabethshorley)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Disturbing Imagery or Content, Episode: s03e08 The Women of Qumar, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-07
Updated: 2007-01-07
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethshorley/pseuds/shoreside
Summary: Post-ep for "The Women of Qumar". Thanks to Eleanor for the beta!





	Speak What You Feel

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Post-ep for The Women of Qumar  


* * *

Speak What We Feel  
by: mitfordgal   
Series: - No Series - #1  
Rating: MATURE   
Warning(s): Disturbing Imagery or Content  
Character(s): Toby Ziegler, CJ Cregg  
Category(ies): Angst  
Pairing(s): Toby/CJ  
Episode(s): 3-08 The Women of Qumar

Chapter 1  
She enters her office, slaps the folders she carrying down on her desk, and flops on the couch. The throbbing in her head does not abate as she closes her eyes and rubs her temples.

I lost it. In the middle of the hallway, with everyone listening, I lost it.

Suddenly she realizes that her door is open and her blinds as well and she gets up to close everything. If nothing else, she wants to send the message that she wants to be alone. If she’s lucky and keeps the light off, maybe everyone will think she’s gone home. Sure, it’s only 9:34 pm. But maybe…

As she lies back down on the couch, there comes a knock. Since it sounds hesitant to her, she ignores it. Seven seconds later, another one, this time more forceful. She rolls over on the couch so her   
face is hidden and prays. No such luck. At the 17-second mark, there is a knock that cannot be ignored. Infuriated, she gets off the couch, throws open the door and shouts, “I’m not here.”

Toby is standing on the other side, hand still poised in a fist, blank expression on his face. “That’s funny because I was sure a couple of seconds ago, this door was closed.”

CJ sighs in resignation and returns to her position on the couch. “What do you want?”

Toby continues to hover in the doorway. “To see you.”

“Why?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “I wondered if you wanted to talk about anything.”

She raises herself to a seating position and squints at him. “I just made an announcement to the press that we’ve renewed our lease in Qumar for 10 years even though everything in me is screaming that this is the wrong thing to do, I blasted out the National Security Advisor in the middle of the hallway at a volume that could probably be heard down Pennsylvania Avenue and I told you to shove it up your ass. I wasn’t particularly clear on what you should shove but I doubt   
that matters at this point. Are you here for my resignation? Because I’m just about ready to give it to you.”

Toby says nothing, eyes studying the carpet.

“Oh for God’s sake,” says CJ exasperatedly, “Stop hovering in my doorway. Shut the door and pick which side you want to be on.”

Toby obeys, staying in the room. There is silence. CJ sits on the couch, studying her hands, trying to control her breathing and Toby continues to stand. Finally, CJ gets up and looks out her office window. 

“I told Nancy that it was a good thing that we never needed to refuel in Johannesburg 15 years ago.”

Toby sits down opposite CJ’s desk and watches her back. “Yeah.”

“I told the president to pretend that the cow had MS.”

“Yeah.”

“I told you to shove it up your ass.”

“Yeah.”

“I told the press that the president was relieved to focus on something that matters.”

“Not today you didn’t.”

CJ turns around. “What?”

Toby shifts in his chair. “You didn’t tell the press that today. That was weeks ago. Why are you bringing it up again?”

CJ leans against the window, crosses her arms and stares at Toby. “I’m helping you make a case for firing me before I spend precious time drafting my resignation letter.”

“I’m not going to fire you,” Toby mutters.

“What?”

“CJ,” says Toby in a louder voice, “What is this about?”

CJ turns back to the window. “It’s about Qumar, Toby. It’s about the fact that we just signed a 10-year lease with monsters. It’s about the US telling Qumar, ‘we don’t like what you do to your women and if you did it on our soil, we’d drag your asses to prison but we need you so we’re going to overlook this grotesque abuse of human rights.’ It’s about the fact that if a woman is raped in Qumar, her family beats her because, quite obviously, she was leading the rapist on with her long black robe and her covered face. Don’t you think that’s enough, Toby?”

Toby pauses, to see if CJ will continue and when she doesn’t, he responds, “What’s this really about, CJ?”

CJ turns, gives him an incredulous look, and turns back. “Isn’t that enough?”

Toby gets up and moves towards CJ. He gently lays a hand on her shoulder and is startled when she slaps it away and growls “Don’t touch me.” Then, looking almost as startled as he does, a look of guilt crosses her face. “Oh God, Toby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Toby is shocked now by the look of vulnerability and sorrow in her eyes. “CJ, it’s ok.”

She continues to repeat, almost like a mantra, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” She starts to shake.

Whispers of fear dance in Toby’s stomach. What is going on? In all the years he’s known CJ, in all the battles they have fought over election and the President’s MS and her relationship with the press, he has never seen her afraid. She’s been furious with him and he can handle that. He expects the sarcasm, the slamming of doors, the yelling. This he has never seen.

More gently, than he has ever spoken in the White House he says, “CJ, it’s me. It’s Toby. It’s ok; you have nothing to be sorry for.” She continues to shake and mutter under her breath, her eyes   
unfocused. The anxiety and terror is so strong throughout her body that Toby can almost see it radiating off her body in waves. “CJ, I want you to sit down. I’m going to put my hands on your arms and lead you over to the sofa. You have nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to hurt you.” Tentatively he reaches out, mentally and physically prepared for the worst. To his surprise and relief, CJ does not fight him. In fact, she doesn’t seem to acknowledge him at all. Tenderly he   
leads her over to the couch and murmurs that she should sit down. She obeys and he gingerly perches beside her, watching her face with worry. She continues to look down, her head moving from side to side, repeating the same phrases over and over.

“CJ, you’re scaring the hell out of me. Should I get Donna or Carol or somebody…?”

All of a sudden, she turns and grips his arm so tightly that he winces in pain. “Toby, no. I don’t want anyone here. Don’t leave me.”

Compassion now joins the fear and entwines itself. He gets off the couch, kneels before her, and lifts her head to meet his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, CJ. I would never leave you. However, you have to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t understand.”

She leans forward violently and he catches her before she tumbles onto the floor. Brutal sobs start and tears begin to run down her face in rivers. With a strength that he didn’t know he possessed,   
he gets himself back on the couch with her head in his lap. Rubbing her back in slow circles with one hand and stroking her hair, he whispers, “It’s ok, CJ… let it out. I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

All of a sudden, the door opens and Josh pokes his head inside. Before taking notice of the scene before him, he starts, “CJ, I need to talk to you about…”

Toby fixes him with a glare that would strip paint off the walls. Josh recoils and comes into the room, speaking softly, “Toby, what the hell is going on?”

Toby casts an anxious eye at CJ, but she doesn’t seem to have registered Josh’s appearance at all. He whispers back fiercely, “I don’t know what’s going on but she is obviously in no condition to talk to you about anything. Give us some space and make sure no one disturbs us.”

Josh begins to back out of the room. “Do you want me to get Leo?” For that he earns a second look, just as piercing as the first.

“No.”

“Ok, well, good night.” Josh closes the door behind him.

Toby resumes his comfort to CJ and she continues to cry, heartbreaking sobs that seem to come from deep, deep within her. Toby is almost grateful for Josh’s interruption… it dispels some of   
the fear in his stomach and has now allowed him to think.

What could have caused this? I’ve known CJ for years and I’ve never seen her like this. Not when she misspoke about Haiti, not when Leo told her about the President’s MS, not after she had just been fired…

Scenarios begin to fill his mind, each more unpleasant than the first. He curses his imagination, the gift that allows him to write speeches that move thousands. He forces his mind out of the unknown and concentrates on the woman lying beside him. The woman has been his best friend since they met in California 20 years ago. The woman who has stood by him through election after election lost, a marriage, a divorce, an exhausting campaign, the devastating news that a man that they both believed in with all their hearts had been lying to them from the beginning. The woman whom he loves more than anyone else in the world. The woman he thought he knew.

CJ continues to sob, but Toby can feel the intensity subsiding somewhat. He continues to stroke her and some of the anxiety relaxes around her shoulders. Eventually, she stops, moves off his lap, and wipes her face with her hands. Toby moves to her desk and gets her a box of Kleenex and she acknowledges him by taking some. When the worst of it has been wiped off her face, she gets up again and faces the window. Toby stays seated but never moves his eyes from her figure.

“Toby, I’m sorry for that. I guess I’m just overtired and stressed. You can go now, I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t move.

She spins around and with more passion repeats, “I’m fine, Toby. Go home. I’m just going to check my email and I’ll be right behind you.”

“The weight of this sad time we must obey; speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.” he quotes quietly.

CJ looks at him incredulously.

“You’re going to use this moment to quote things at me that I don’t know? You’re getting as bad as the President with his ‘Post hoc ergo propter hoc’ garbage on my tombstone.”

“It’s from King Lear,” he states, evenly. “I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear – we’ve been friends for too long and seen too much together. At least from my perspective. Don’t dishonor our friendship by pretending this is just a fluke or the effect of not getting enough sleep. I’ve seen you take down an entire pressroom of angry, antagonistic reporters on two hours sleep. This is something else.”

CJ continues to stare at him, seemingly weighing his words.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to share something that you don’t want to,” he goes on, “But I also don’t want you to dismiss me. I know I’m technically your boss but let’s throw that out the window for the moment. I’m your friend, I’ve known you for 20 years and I want to listen.”

Can I? Can I tell him? What if he doesn’t get it? What if he’s angry? Can I handle an angry Toby at the moment? Can I handle someone else knowing? Am I ready to share something that I’ve kept a secret for 30 years?

She begins to pace without realizing it. Toby watches her and his heart begins to break even more. Whatever it is, it’s big, he can tell that by her body language. Does she trust him enough? Does he trust himself enough to be what she needs right now?

Finally, she sighs. “Ok. I need to talk about this.”

Toby sighs inwardly, relieved and terrified at the same time. “CJ, can I ask something? This is more for me than for you but… do you think you can come and sit here beside me and let me hold your hand or something?”

A faint smile appears on her face but doesn’t reach her eyes. “More for you, huh?”

Toby nods.

“Ok then.”

She settles herself beside him and he reaches for her right hand. To his amazement, she moves her entire body towards him, laying her head on his chest, right on his heart. He moves his arms around her and marvels at her warmth and how right this feels. He tightens his hold on her and inwardly hopes that she feels safer, more secure.

“I don’t know where to start,” she murmurs. “It’s been so long…”

“Start wherever you want. We’ve got all the time you need.”

CJ moves to look at his face and then resumes her original position. “You’re being nice to me, Tobus. You’d better be careful or your entire reputation around here is going to be ruined.”

“No one would ever believe you, so I think I’m safe for now.”

CJ sighs and Toby can feel the tension return to her body. He moves one hand to stroke her hair, hoping that she will relax.

“You know my mother died, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know when though.”

“She died when I was in grade 4. Breast cancer. I didn’t understand much of what was going on… it seemed like she was around one day and gone the next day and there was a big hole in my life. I love my father dearly but he seems to have this incredible capacity to quickly grieve and move on.”

“Hence three marriages.”

“Yeah.” She is silent for a while and Toby wonders if she will continue.

“In grade 5 I moved to the school that Dad was teaching math at. I never had him as a teacher, of course, but I was familiar with all the staff – he would have them over to the house for socials and stuff like that. My homeroom and English teacher then was a man named Mr. Grainger and I guess you would call him my father’s best friend. He was over the most, anyhow. Throughout that year, it seemed like he was trying really hard to encourage me, to make up for the fact that I   
had just lost my mother. Because of him, I wrote and delivered the best speech in the entire junior high and got to the state-level.”

“And now you’re Press Secretary to the Leader of the Free World.”

“Yeah, lucky me.” There is a note of cynicism in her voice and Toby wonders if it’s significant. He leans forward and places a kiss on the top of her head, reminding her that he will listen to anything else she has to say.

She lets out a shuddering sigh and continues. “At the end of the year, each class takes a day and goes on a picnic to a local park. We were fortunate to get a hot and sunny day, perfect for the outdoors. Now I’m not really a picnic sort of girl and because I was so withdrawn, I guess, from my mother’s death and coping with life in a house with three males, I didn’t have close friends that year. But it was sunny and I liked the river that flowed in the corner of the park so I went over there after lunch while the rest of the class was playing baseball and just lay down on the grass and closed my eyes. You couldn’t really see me from the baseball field because there was a gentle slope toward the river.”

She stops talking and starts to shake again. Toby is afraid that their positions are hurting rather than helping now and he starts to move his hands. Roughly, she pulls his right hand back around herself and holds on and Toby returns his left hand to her head. He begins a short rocking motion, hoping to bring some comfort. When she resumes the story, her voice is unsteady and he can hear the tears fighting to gain control again.

“I was lying there peacefully one moment and the next moment there was someone on top of me. They were pushing up my skirt, undoing the buttons on my blouse and I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to do. Then I feel something hard and slimy enter my body and this weight on my chest that is suffocating me and I open my eyes…”

Toby closes his and fights to control the growing rage inside him. His hands want to clench themselves into a fist so badly and enter CJ’s memories and punch this guy until he can’t move on the ground but he forces himself to stay relaxed. CJ doesn’t need to deal with his anger on top of her memories.

Act worthy of the trust she’s placing in you. Don’t get upset. Don’t scare her. Keep holding on to her.

CJ’s voice becomes robotic, devoid of feeling altogether. “I open my eyes and it’s Mr. Grainger. The look on his face… it’s something I can’t get out of my head. It was over pretty quickly and he didn’t say anything to me that time…”

That time. That means there was more. Breathe, Toby, breathe. Control your feelings. This is about her.

…”and he walked away as though nothing had happened. I quickly got dressed and walked home since it was practically the end of the day anyhow. I didn’t know what to do with the blood and the fluids… I threw out that outfit and my father and brothers never noticed that I didn’t come down for dinner that night. I spent it in my bathroom, alternately throwing up and crying on the floor. The next day I went to school like nothing had happened and Mr. Grainger was again just my teacher and I wondered if I had imagined the entire thing.”

The grip CJ has on his arm is beginning to become painful again but Toby is not about to let her know that. Her shaking has not subsided at all; in fact, it is getting worse. He debates letting her stop after more than 2 minutes of silence but he’s afraid that if she stops now, she will never release the entire story. And, if he’s learned anything from Josh’s experience, he knows that talking about it is the only way to banish it.

“You said ‘that time’. Was there more?” He is surprised at how gentle his voice is, belying the rage he feels. CJ abruptly pulls away from him and practically melts her body into the other side of the couch.

“Yes.” She begins to sound like a little girl. “From then on, until I left home to go to college, every time he would come over for a party, he would come into my room if I was in bed. Sometimes he would talk to me, telling me how special I was and how much I turned him on and sometimes he would just fuck me and get out.” She turns toward him and meets his eyes, pleading for understanding. “Toby, I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell my father. I don’t know what I was afraid of… maybe I wanted to protect him, maybe I didn’t trust him, maybe I thought it was my fault, that I had subconsciously told Mr. Grainger that I wanted comfort through sex… but I couldn’t say anything. I haven’t said anything to this day.”

Please understand. Please don’t tell me that I’m bad, that I’m shameful, that this is my fault. I mean, I know it is, I know I should’ve stopped it, but please, Toby, don’t tell me that. And will you still like me? Will you still consider me your best friend? Will you still trust me with your secrets or have I become like a fragile glass doll to you know, ready to shatter at a moment’s notice? Every time I stand up before the press now, will you see the bold, witty, confident CJ or will you see that little girl huddled in the bathroom, throwing up? Don’t let this change your opinion of me, Toby. I can’t handle that. I can’t handle your pity.

She waits, bowing her head, waiting for the verdict.

It’s ironic that I play with words for a living and yet I’m so scared right now to say the wrong thing. How can I make her see that it’s not her fault? That she was just a little girl being taken advantage of by a   
monster? How do I show her that she’s still the woman I love? That she hasn’t changed in my eyes except that I love her more, if that’s possible. God, I don’t want to frighten her or shame her even more. Help me.

Somehow, grasping, Toby finds the words.

“This is not your fault, CJ. You were 10 years old. How could you defend yourself against a man that much older than you, in authority over you and a good friend of your father? He took advantage of all of that and he took advantage of the fact that you had just lost your mother and you were vulnerable. This is HIS fault CJ, not yours. God, not yours.” Tears come to his eyes unexpectedly and start to trail down his face. “You are beautiful, strong and any man would be   
proud to have you in his life. Don’t let this bastard take that away from you. No one would judge you, no one would point the finger of blame at you, no one would think differently of you except   
to be more proud, more impressed at who you have become and what you have accomplished. Please, don’t blame yourself. And don’t pull away from those who love you.” Especially me, he thinks silently. CJ, I don’t want to lose you. I know we’re just friends, I know we work together, I know neither one of us needs further complications right now but please, don’t let this come between us. I love you.

Embarrassed slightly by his emotion, Toby looks down at his hands. He can feel CJ’s eyes upon him but he’s too afraid to look up. Suddenly he feels warm lips on his and a hand on his cheek, brushing away his tears. He lifts his head and she follows him, still kissing him, more intensely now. Her arm moves up to encircle his neck and she shifts until her body is practically on top of his. He can feel his arousal even as every atom in his being is screaming, no, this isn’t right. It kills him but he gently pushes her away.

“God, CJ, I want to, don’t get me wrong, but not now. Neither one of us are in the space to do this right now. I don’t want to hurt you and I also don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

She moves back to the other side of the couch and faces the window again. “You don’t want me because of what I told you. I’ve become a victim, someone to treat like china, not someone who is an adult, capable of making her own choices in life. You want to look after me now. I’ve become a child to you, not your equal.”

“No, that’s” he starts, but she is on a roll now, gaining momentum and won’t be stopped. Her voice raises in anger as she stands up to face him.

“You wonder why I never told anyone? You wonder why I’ve kept this a secret for 30 years? Because I’ve seen the way victims of sexual abuse get treated. I’ve read the court reports, seen the statistics and know that abusers never suffer as much as their victims. And now that you know and the entire senior staff will know, I’ll get treated like Josh, except worse. There will be no private meetings with someone like Stanley, no Donna to take me to the hospital and bandage up   
my hand. I’m the public face of this administration and we can’t afford to have someone who might go off on the slightest mention of sexual abuse or rape or someone who rips off the head of the National Security Advisor in the middle of the White House for selling arms and renting an airbase to Qumar!” She pauses for breath and instead of continuing her rant, bursts into tears. 

Toby is frozen, unable to move, the pain in his heart as he watches her immobilizing his body.

Through her tears, she continues in a cracking voice, “I let it get to me, Toby. I let something become personal when it wasn’t. And I behaved abhorrently all day – to you, to Leo, to the President and to Nancy. But you know what scares me the most? The fact that I was able to shut it off, walk into the pressroom and make a joke about Qumar. Who am I? Who am I becoming? Someone who shuts on or off depending on whether there’s a camera focused on her face? That’s   
not who I want to be.” She wants to continue but the tears overtake her again. She slowly sinks to the floor, and like she did when she was 10, she curls her body into a ball and huddles against the wall. 

Toby can’t watch anymore. He gets up, knowing the risk he is taking and kneels beside her. With infinite care, he wraps himself around her and begins to rock her again. As he rocks, he tries to comfort her with words, not knowing if she can hear him.

“CJ, I know I don’t speak for Leo or the President but I need you. You have no idea how much you keep me sane, how much I depend on you, not just behind the podium in the pressroom but personally. I tried to make it work with Andi and it didn’t, and you were the one who stayed with me so I would get home safely after drinking myself into oblivion. You were the only one who knew something was wrong when I knew about the President’s MS and no one else did –   
you knew I was lying to you and you accepted it, even though you didn’t like it. That’s the faith you have in me. And that’s the faith I have in you. I don’t see you as a victim, a liability to this administration or, God help me, someone only worthy of pity. You’ve always made your own choices, been strong enough to do the right thing and still reach out to me and Sam and Josh when we’re being idiots. You did what you did in the pressroom because you are loyal and because you are courageous, not because you’re inauthentic or a liar.” He pauses, thinking, and then decides to go for it. “The President told me to apologize to you today and I didn’t understand why but I think I do now. I’m sorry CJ. I’m sorry on behalf of every man on this earth who has ever treated a woman with anything less than the respect and honor that they deserve. I’m sorry that I pushed you on Qumar instead of listening to you. I’m not saying that our decision would’ve been different but I should have listened to you. I’m sorry, CJ. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

He waits, breath caught in his chest, continuing to rock her. She stops crying long enough to say to his shirt, “Yes” before starting again. He breathes again and gains the patience to wait. It is only a few minutes before she speaks again, muffled by her position, but still loud enough for him to hear.

“You remember when I announced to the Kennedy Center patio that I was great in bed… when Tad Whitney attacked me for not getting the job?”

Toby allows himself a small smile. He remembered very well.

“Well, there’s been lots of Tad Whitneys – one night stands or short-term relationships that were all about me proving something to someone long dead, that he wouldn’t be the cause of me not   
being a woman… as if having sex with the world makes me more of a woman. It didn’t mean anything Toby. It just made me feel sluttish and worse about myself but I couldn’t stop. And tonight, you saying no to me, well, for the first time I feel respected. Thank you. Can you forgive me for what I did to you?”

Toby rests his chin on her head and sighs. “There’s nothing to forgive, CJ. I feel honored that you told me what you did. It couldn’t have been easy. And I don’t pretend to understand all the dynamics because, as Leo so nicely reminded me a few weeks ago, I’d make a lousy counselor but you are not less important than Josh, either with regards to me or this administration. If you want to talk to Stanley, I’ll drive you to San Francisco myself and even hold your hand   
through it. Ok?”

CJ starts to laugh through her tears. “Tobus, you’re scaring me. I feel like you’ve been abducted by aliens and replaced with Oprah Winfrey.”

“That’s what I get for tonight? Being accused of being a touchy-feely talk-show host? I’m insulted, Claudia Jean.”

CJ moves to look at him in the face. “I like it when you call me that. It reminds me of my mother. She did not like nicknames and after two boys, she really, really wanted a girl. She never let me forget my name or the fact that I was wanted. God, I miss her.” She pauses and starts stroking Toby’s hand absently. When her fingers make contact with something hard, she looks down, surprised.

“Toby, why are you still wearing your wedding ring?”

Toby looks down at it too as if he had forgotten it was there. “I guess I’m not ready to admit that I’m a terrible husband and that I failed at something that ultimately is more important than writing the Inaugural address or getting a President elected. I know Andi has moved on and   
probably I have too… but yet…”

CJ tightens her grip on his hand. “I know about moving on. It’s not as easy as Oprah or Dr Phil makes it sound.”

Toby winces a bit as he realizes how he is sitting. “CJ, don’t get me wrong, I’m not cutting you off here but I’m an old man and I can’t sit on the floor much longer or I’m going to need a wheelchair. Can I take you home? Josh tells me that you’ve been walking to work ever since the MS thing. Let me drive you.”

“Josh has a big mouth,” CJ grouses but she allows Toby to pull her to her feet. “A ride would be great. Let me just gather one file for tomorrow and I’ll meet you at your office.”

Once in the car, CJ leans back and closes her eyes. “God, I’m exhausted. I feel like today has been three weeks long. I hope I can sleep without…” She stops suddenly and turns away from Toby.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Toby gently suggests, “Without nightmares?” Silence.

Finally. “Yeah.” Toby can hear the sounds of CJ playing with her fingers. He pulls up beside her apartment building and shuts off the engine.

“Can I come upstairs with you?” He waits.

“Sure.” Now it’s her turn to have butterflies in her stomach. But she allows him to open her door and guide her with his hand on her lower back up the stairs and into her small apartment. She winces at the sight of paper strewn everywhere but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Do you want a drink?”

He smiles slightly. “I know this answer will shock you, but not tonight. Go get ready for bed. I’ll be here when you get out of the bathroom.”

She complies, dropping her purse and the file on the already crowded coffee table. Toby waits for her to grab some clothes and enter the bathroom before he moves into the kitchen and starts rummaging through her shelves looking for chamomile tea. He knows she has some because she used to make it for Josh while he was recovering. By the time she emerges, he has it ready on a tray for her.

“Tobus, that’s sweet.” She picks up her cup and sips slowly.

“Yeah, don’t spread it around.” He fills an awkward moment by rearranging her bedspread and encouraging her to get in so he can tuck it around her. When he gets up, she puts the tea down on   
the bedside table and grabs his arm.

“Toby, I know you have no reason to believe me at the moment but I don’t want sex… but I also don’t want to be alone. Will you…?” and she pats the other side of the bed. She doesn’t meet his eyes and he knows what this is costing her.

He slips off his pants and joins her in the bed. She immediately turns towards him and lays her head on his chest. “Thank you.”

“Claudia Jean, I love you.”

“I love you too Tobus. And by the way, ‘to thine own’s self be true’.”

“What?” he questions with a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

“I just wanted to show you that you’re not the only smartass who can quote Shakespeare on a whim. ‘Course that and ‘to be or not to be’ is the extent of it but you don’t need to know that.”

“Yeah whatever, get some sleep.” He closes his eyes and for a moment, allows himself to feel just how right this is yet again. But it’s not the time or the place. He listens until CJ’s breathing is even and he knows she is asleep. Then he slowly and carefully removes his wedding ring and puts it on the bedside table next to her tea.


End file.
